Maybe He Should
by MSan
Summary: Harry gets angry and Remus gets the brunt of it. But when its all over, things may just seem a little clearer. RR


This is a song fic to Billy Joel's "Vienna". Harry and Remus have somwhat of a spat. Read and review! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter the novels, chacters, films or anything associated to J.K Rowling, Chris Columbus, or Alfonso Cuaron. But I thank them for their beautiful characters!

Darkstar12

Maybe he Should

_Slow down, you crazy child  
you're so ambitious for a juvenile  
But then if you're so smart, tell me  
Why are you still so afraid?  
_

Harry threw his Potions book across the room, yelling angrily at it. He shook his head ripping at his hair and growling in fury. He fell to the floor, falling back on his back and breathing heavily. He was so tired of sitting around here all day, doing nothing, knowing nothing; sick of wondering what was going on, and never knowing if those he loved were still safe, still alive. He was the most important person and yet the least important. No one saw fit to tell him a thing. And why? Because they were cowards. Because he was a coward. Because he was a _child_. And children couldn't deal with information like was common knowledge with everyone but him.

He was ill with anger and his face was hot with the effort of throwing that book. It now laid in the corner, open, its pages askew and the cover bent slightly. It was a horridly heavy book to lug around school. It was really difficult to do homework in. If you turned it ever so slightly it shifted in an awkward direction and prevented you from putting your parchment on it. Snape's class was a back breaker. Who gave homework over Christmas break? Only Severus Snape. Not even Professor McGonagall gave homework.

Harry heard footsteps treading on the stairs outside his door. He was the luckiest to finally get his own room on the third floor of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He could finally think and yell and scream and make a racket and for the most part, no one ever heard him. Harry could hear each step squeak and groan, protesting the weight that was being forced on it. Each step, very slowly, for the shallow heart beat that somehow found the strength to pound in Harry's chest. A small, meek knock came to the door. _Tap, tap, tap_. Harry grouched. He was too angry. He sat up, lying on his stomach to reach the Potions book. He dragged it and him to a sitting position, twisting, and hurling the book at the door. It slammed against it, actually cracking the paint and making the floor and frame groan.

"Go away!" he yelled. He turned back around to stare at the wall. He felt proud of himself. He had never had the courage to just blow someone off like that before. It made him feel good. Another knock came to the door however, a little harder this time. _Rap, rap, rap_. Harry growled, jumping up with cat-like precision and seizing a bag of rocks he collected for charms class. He turned throwing them at the door. "I said, _go away!_"

But the person insisted. A few moments later, a knock came that was neither a tap, nor a pound, but definitely meant the person wasn't leaving. _Knock, knock, knock_. Harry stomped the floor. He was running out of heavy things that weren't important to him that he could fling at the door. He looked around quickly, scanning the area. Harry grabbed his satchel and threw it at the door. It hit and made a funny crackling sound as it fell to the floor.

"What part of _go away_ don't you understand?" Harry yelled. His door suddenly pushed open against the items littering the floor in front of it. Remus Lupin's head appeared at the doorway.

"The part where everyone downstairs is worrying themselves sick about you. Now, if you've curbed your throwing arm, I'd like to talk to you," he said, stepping over the Potions book and shutting the door behind him. Harry rolled his eyes, turning and leaning on his desk. He felt guilty all of a sudden for being so cruel. Remus only was trying to help. But he masked it by acting as if he were still angry, which was still true, but he was just frustrated now. Remus made his way into the room. Harry heard him begin to pick up the things Harry had thrown. He was cleaning Harry's room. Harry glanced over his shoulder at the man. Remus was walking slowly around, picking up random objects that Harry had upset, and set them back into their original position or something like it. He picked up pencils that Harry had showered his wall with for no real reason. Remus carefully bunched them together and put them on Harry's bedside stand.

Hedwig hooted lovingly at Remus and the man smiled offering her his arm. She gladly accepted and nibbled Remus's ear affectionately. It was Harry's opinion that Hedwig had a crush on the man. Remus talked quietly with Hedwig, slipping her a bit of bread he had with him, and telling her about what he had been doing before he came up here. She listened intently and glared at Harry when she got the chance. He had not been very kind to her today, and she was sore with him.

Finally, Remus stilled, setting Hedwig back on her perch and slowly making his way to the wardrobe where he slid the door shut with a soft thud that, in the silence, sounded like someone beating the side of a house. Harry stared out the window dismally. A snow and rain mixture was falling and the stars were inked out by clouds, causing the house to seem even more gloomy than usual. The street outside was covered in a dirty slush that sprayed away from tires as cars passed in the dreary wake of another depressing Christmas holiday.

Harry was used to hearing the _hiss, slosh_ as a car passed on the street below and listening to it fade into the distance as they fled as far from this horrible place as they could find. He would watch the headlights flash in his window and travel through his room before disappearing along with the shadows it caused. Harry was used to being occupied by watching headlights make shapes on the walls. He did it all summer at the Dursley's. Why should it be any different here?

A big, long, blue SUV passed on the street. Harry looked at the license plate. It didn't look normal. He looked a little more closely as the car stopped at the stop sign just a few feet away. On the top it said West Virginia; on the bottom it said St. Albans. This car had just come from America. Harry squinted to read the letters that were engraved on the license plate. Bad Grl89. Harry screwed up his nose as the SUV disappeared in the darkness that swallowed the street beyond. That license plate sounded like a chat room name. Weird Yanks.

It was then that Remus made a noise. It sounded surprised, or sad. It was a little bit of a whimpering. Harry looked over his shoulder at the man. He was rubbing his knee. He slowly sat down on Harry's bed. The day after a full moon was always the worst for the man. He could never get back up on his own feet for awhile. Harry turned back to the window, watching the clouds roll around and touching the glass, letting fog form around his fingers. He was afraid.

"So, Harry? What's troubling you?"

_Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?  
You'd better cool it off before you burn it out  
You've got so much to do and  
Only so many hours in a day_

Harry looked around at Remus as the man made himself a little more comfortable on the bed. His hazel eyes that should have looked a little brighter, were dull and sad. He was only thirty-nine. He was too young to have eyes that sad. Harry shook his head, looking back out at the slush that had formed on the curb a little ways down the street from the house.

"I don't know anything," he said quietly. "I don't know _anything_. No one sees fit to tell _me_, when both Ron and Hermione know what's going on. I want to do something, Remus. I'm sick of sitting here _not knowing_."

Remus shifted on the bed, pushing the blankets away from him and reaching up to stroke Hedwig. She hooted gratefully and nestled down to sleep. Remus smiled, lowering his hand and watching the bird sleep soundly. Harry looked back over his shoulder again. The man didn't look as if he were listening. And the fear Harry was feeling mixed with anger and he turned around to fume to the window again. He snorted, and his breath blew a foggy spot on the window. It slowly melted away at the edges. Harry blew on the glass again to make a long foggy spot. He ran his finger over it and spelled out his name. He wasn't enlightened enough at the moment to come up with anything better to write.

"Potions was never my forte," Remus said quietly, picking up the Potions book that he had placed on Harry's bedside stand and flipping through it. He stopped on a page but Harry didn't look over to see which one. He heard the man chuckle. "Sirius and James tried to buy this Potion off of a man in Hogsmeade. He ripped them off, gave them a love potion instead. James was spouting poetry for a week."

Harry's eyes traveled from the window towards where Remus was sitting behind him. The man continued to flip through the book and the pages made a crinkling sound that indicated its age. Harry turned back to the window again, blowing on it and writing random words in the fog, then drawing the British flag once. But the fog disappeared before he could finish the x in the background. Harry heard Remus pull something from the Potions book and knew he must've discovered Harry's poor attempt at answering the chapter questions efficiently. Then Harry heard the book shut and be replaced on the stand. His bed creaked as Remus got up and he heard him approach from behind. Harry felt that Remus was looking out the window along with him.

After a moment, Remus leaned forward and blew a large foggy spot on the window. He raised his hand and made small dots in the fog, and finally, something that resembled a crescent moon. He pulled out his wand and waved it. The image stayed on the glass and the fog didn't disappear.

"I used to draw on my window after I recovered a little from Lycanthropy, and I taught myself a spell that would preserve the image for a little while. So even if the sky was cloudy, I could sleep with stars in the sky," Remus said. Harry looked at the small dots that the man had made in the fog, and the vague light from other houses shimmering through made it resemble a starry sky. But regardless, Harry didn't know why the man had come up here if all he wanted to do was tell him tales of his childhood. Harry wasn't in the mood.

"Look, Remus. I just really need to be alone. I need to think, I need to…I just need to be alone okay?" he said, an angry edge to his voice. Remus stepped backward, then walked towards the bed again. He sat down, picking up the Potions book again and beginning to turn the pages. Harry sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and continuing to stare out the window. The sky was dark and still cloudy, and the slush on the street had not gotten any better. No cars had passed for several minutes, but Harry could see cars on the highway a little ways away. He wondered why anyone would stray from them to come down this little road. He shook his head. If they wanted their own little piece of Hell, this is where they'd find it.

"Son," Remus muttered, almost incoherently. "What're you so angry about?"

Harry looked around at the man sitting on the bed. He was stroking Hedwig, one hand folded in his lap and the other gently running through the owl's feathers. His sleeve had fallen away from his forearm and Harry could see a long gash up his arm, disappearing in his sleeve at his elbow. It was gingerly bound up in gauze and medical tape. Harry could tell it had been healed with magic, but had broken open. It looked as if Remus had just gone with the Muggle solution.

Remus turned his head and saw Harry looking at his arm. He quickly lowered it, covering it with his sleeve. Harry looked away back out the window. What must it be like living with Lycanthropy? Knowing that if you don't kill something, you'll kill yourself. Knowing how hated you are among the "civilized" people of the world. Harry sighed. He reached up rubbing at the picture on the window, wiping it away and watching the clouds outside roll across the sky, continuing to block out any light the stars might be shining. He let Remus's question float around in his head for a moment before taking a breath.

"I'm tired, Remus. I'm tired of knowing that I don't know anything. I want to do something about the things that are going on around me. I want to fight, I want to..." Harry's words trailed off. "I just want to do something." He whispered. He shook his head. He had been feeling pressure building up in his head and now it was a full-blown migraine.

"Don't be in such a hurry," Remus said. "There is plenty of time to fight, Harry. Please, don't rush it...you'll be sorely disappointed." Harry turned around, leaning on his desk, watching Remus's back. He scowled at it.

"Remus! Everyone is fighting! Everyone I know, and love! I want to fight with them!" he yelled, anger building up inside of him again. He once again felt like throwing something at the door, or at Remus. Whichever made him madder.

Remus turned on him, standing quickly, his robes fluttering about his ankles in an irate way.

"I'm not fighting! Ron isn't fighting! Hermione? What about her? She isn't fighting. Severus Snape, Arthur, Molly. None of us are fighting. Harry you aren't alone in not knowing. None of us _know_ for absolute sure. None of us are fighting. Harry, we all wish we were out there, doing something about it. But we aren't. And we can't, not now. We are fighting as well as we can manage and at the moment, and that is from here, from now. Don't rush things, Harry. You'll get your time."

_But you know that when the truth is told,  
That you can get what you want or you can just get old  
You're gonna kick off before you even  
Get halfway through  
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you... _

Harry turned, fuming, back to the window. He hated talking to Remus anymore. The man couldn't understand him as he used to. He would spout meaningless nothing that didn't help Harry one iota. He snorted furiously at the car that passed on the road, the familiar _hiss, slosh_ sounding a bit muffled by the window, and the headlights flashing in the window and traveling the length of the room before disappearing along with the car. Harry stood for a few moments letting his anger seep out into the room, making it smell even more of hate than it already did. Remus shifted again on the bed behind him making it squeak and groan. It was an old bed, and Harry had observed names scratched into the wooden frame. Lucious, Narcissa, Sirius, Aaron, Baxter, and some other names. Most he did not recognize. Harry was hot, and he wanted to cool down. He reached up, unlocking the window and throwing it wide open, the snow-rain mix slightly showering him as the icy wind blew in. Harry heard Remus's breath hiss through his teeth as he gasped against the wind.

Harry turned to look at Remus, his cheeks still hot, but cooling off a little. He wanted to yell at the man. Wanted to tell him how angry he was, why he couldn't keep sitting around here anymore. Harry wanted to scream at _someone_. He felt that if he could just shout, and scream, and cry for awhile, he might feel better. But he didn't. He couldn't, not with Remus here. But knowing that the man was there only made Harry madder or some reason, made him want to yell even louder, made him want to throw something big and heavy and break down the door. He wanted to run down the stairs and throw something at the people in the common room.

He didn't.

Harry closed his eyes against the pounding in his temples. Remus turned around, standing and looking at Harry as if he were someone that the man had never seen before. Remus could tell that Harry was angry. It was the fault of many things, not only the issues of the little communication going on between Harry and many of the people downstairs, Remus included. The man walked forward, soon standing in front of the teenager. When Harry opened his eyes he jumped a little at the man. He scowled a little, turning slightly away from him.

"Harry," Remus said. "You're angry with me. That's okay. But I'm going to tell you, Harry. Rushing what will surely come, won't make it happen any quicker. It'll make you feel helpless. It'll make you angry."

"But, Remus, I'm so furious! Not just, because I can't do anything. I'm angry with everyone and no one! I can't stop feeling this way," Harry cried, looking at the man, his eyes burning. He turned away again, looking out at the window as headlights flashed in his window. _Hiss, slosh_. The license plate was definitely British this time, its light reflecting yellow-orange glinting at Harry in the darkness. Its loud color disappeared into the night as it stopped at the stop sign and continued on its way. Harry took a deep breath trying to keep his heart from beating in his chest. After a moment, it stilled to a slightly normal rate and he looked over his shoulder a little. "I just want to do something. I'm tired of being _too young_ to hear anything, _too young_ to deal with this situation, _too young_ to understand! _Too young, too young, too young_! Remus, I'm nearly sixteen years old, I'm tired of being told I'm _TOO YOUNG_!" He shouted.

"But we're all too young! Harry, in our own way, we are all frightened. We all feel like we aren't grown up enough to handle this!" Remus shouted back.

"But _I_ am!" Harry yelled, whirling on Remus, pulling papers with him and flinging them at the man. They stared at each other, the papers floating around them, like snow, fluttering to the ground, and swirling about in the wind that had begun to blow from outside. For what seemed like a long time, they just stared at each other, their breaths turning to steam and twisting away from them in the icy air. Harry's eyes watched his breath curl away from his lips then disappear as it was blown away. His hair ruffled in the breeze and snow swirled inside melting immediately on their bodies. Remus looked down at the ground his eyes searching for something. Harry turned back to the window, and watched the distant lights of the highway, and the way the snow played in them. He sighed out through his nose and it came out as more of an agitated snort. Harry realized he was beginning to sound a lot like his Potion's professor when he got angry.

Remus could only watch Harry's back. He could not think of anything more to say. The boy wad filled with and hatred. He was filled with emotions that were overcoming him, and Remus understood how he felt. He stepped forward leaning on the desk next to Harry, gazing out the window at the starless sky. He considered the state in which the room had been in when he had entered it. Harry had obviously been throwing things around far longer than just at the door when he knocked. No one had seen Harry except at dinner for three days straight, and everyone was worried sick about him. Remus almost regretted coming up here and receiving the brunt of Harry's attacks. But Harry was like a son to him now, and he could not just turn his back on the boy. He just wanted Harry to understand that he was trying to grow up too fast. Trying to deal with everything a little too quickly.

_Slow down, you're doing fine  
You can't be everything you want to be  
Before your time  
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight  
Tonight...  
_

Harry ran both of his hands through his hair as it was blown about by the wind. He breathed a sigh letting the steam blow backwards into his room. The snow was still swirling inside, and the room was freezing now, the snow was settling on things that were cold enough to accommodate it. Harry watched a snowflake flutter in and settle on his nose. His nose must have been colder than he thought, because it lingered there longer than it should have. Flakes clung to his clothes and eye lashes melting to make water that slid down his face to drip off his jaw. It was cold and made him shiver. Harry longed to sit in front of a fire, but the numbness that the snow was causing made him feel numb inside, almost making him forget the anger that still burned inside of him. Almost.

"I'm just so tired, Remus. Tired of the struggle. Tired of everything that is going on. It's eating away at me and, huh, I just can't control it anymore," Harry said weakly. He continued to look out the window. He could hear a car coming down the road. It was driving very fast. As it shot past the house, it sprayed slush in every direction, even hitting Harry with some of its dirty grim. He jumped back, spluttering and attempting to yell curses at the driver. But it was lost as he tripped over his own feet and fell back onto the floor. He slammed his fist against the floor boards, wiping at the icy water and mud that now stained his shirt. "Damn it!" he spat, grabbing his wand from his jeans and waving it, quickly cleaning himself up. If he had wanted to shout before, he wanted to scream now. He wanted to cry and throw something. He fell back onto his back and put his hands over his face.

Remus watched the boy fall back in frustration. He had narrowly missed getting pegged by the flying ice himself. Now he wished that Harry hadn't been the one to. Remus reached up, pulling the window down and latching it. He pulled the curtains over the window, hoping Harry could forget whatever torment he saw out there. The man turned, leaning on the desk and looking down at Harry whose hands were covering his face and any emotion Remus might read there. Harry shook his head, rolling over onto his stomach and lifting himself onto his hands and knees. He got up walking over to his bedside table. Harry looked down at his Potions book, then picked it up rolling it around in his hands. After a moment, he walked to his door opened it up and stepped out onto the first step. Remus cocked his head, making a move to walk to him. But suddenly, he heard a great pounding of something heavy falling down the stairs. It banged all the way down and landed with incredible force on the landing of the end flight. He heard several people downstairs gasp and jump up from their seats.

"Keep it!" Harry screamed after the pounding. He then stomped back into his room and slammed the door behind him.

That had felt really, really good. Harry had desperately wanted to see that book going flying away from him down the stairs. He had wanted to burn it with a spell, but that would not have set well with his Potions Professor. So, Harry had done the next best thing and flung it down the stairway into the entrance hall, near to where everyone was sitting, doing their own thing. Harry looked up at Remus, fire in his eyes. The man's mouth curved at the edge slightly, and Harry knew he was trying to keep back a laugh. Harry snorted, striding back to the window, ripping the curtains away from it, and glaring out as the familiar _hiss, slosh_ penetrated the air again. A large truck splashed by the house and Harry growled at it as it disappeared into the snowy night. Harry wanted to rip down the window and throw it after the Potions book. Harry wanted to throw a lot of things right now.

He didn't.

Remus still stared at the door, where the boy had been standing before. Harry had no idea how much that action had just reminded him of James. It was something James would have done without even considering the consequences. Remus was suppressing the urge the laugh out loud at the uncanny resemblance Harry had to his father. Remus merely smiled as he heard Harry growl threats to the passing car on the road. Harry had just recently taken up throwing things, but Remus agreed that it was an effective way to relieve stress. He had done it plenty of times himself, although he had attempted to do it less pronounced than Harry. Remus contained his primal instinct to rip things apart when he was angry for times when he was completely alone and could make as much anger noise as possible.

Harry wanted to go downstairs and tell everyone in no uncertain terms just what he thought of them right now. He wanted to tell Snape that he was fed up with being bullied and that if he ever tried to pull his old tricks Harry would hex him into next century. He wanted to tell Ron to shut up, Hermione to get a life, and everyone to _get off his back_! But he wouldn't and he couldn't. Harry merely tried to watch the sky outside. He heard Remus rustle behind him. The man had turned and reached out his left hand, pulling the curtain over one half of the window. He moved around behind Harry, placing his left hand on the boy's shoulder and standing on his tip toes to reach the right hand curtain and draw it over. He stood straight placing both hands on Harry's shoulders. For a few moments they just stood there, Harry staring at the curtains, and Remus squeezing his shoulders reassuringly.

Harry turned his head slightly to look at the man in front of him. He tilted his shoulders a little, dipping and hunching a little under Remus's touch. He wanted the floor to eat him. He didn't feel embarrassed, as this usually would be the thing to bring that feeling on, but he felt tired, and angry, and sick of the things going around him.

"So what, Remus? What is it all for? The waiting, and hoping, and hurting. The pain, the anxiety. What does it mean in the end? If we win, we will have felt so for no reason. If we lose, we will know that we did everything for no reason. I'm tired…of yelling and screaming. I'm sick of Severus Snape looking down his nose at everyone because we show our feelings. I'm tired of…" Harry paused, feeling tears in his eyes. "I'm tired of crying…"

_Too bad but it's the life you lead  
You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need  
Though you can see when you're wrong, you know  
You can't always see when you're right…_  
_You're right…_

Remus's eyes fell away from looking at the back of the boy's head. He stared at the floor for a few moments, considering, then he looked back up at Harry. The child's eyes glistened with unshed fury-tears, and Remus knew that Harry really could not stand much more of this all.

"We all cry, Harry," Remus said softly. "We all weep. We all…mourn in some way. Even Severus; God only knows. But I know that we all get tired of being tired. We get sick of being weary and useless. We all have something to cry about. We all want to throw that Potions book down the stairs once in a while as you so valiantly demonstrated your lack of fear to do. And sometimes, even Severus could use someone to talk to. I know what your feeling, Harry. I'm going through the same things, all of us are. But you cannot let it make you angrier."

"And what would you have me do? I'm backed into a corner here, Remus," Harry said, turning around suddenly. "I have no way to go but up or down. I either get angrier or I get suicidal. Now which would you have of me?!"

"For God's sake, Harry!" Remus scolded above the boy's loud voice. Harry quieted. "Harry, you do not know what is going on, I understand that. You're scared, I'm scared too. But what you cannot see, or won't let yourself see, is the fact that no matter what happens, you aren't in all this by yourself. You do not have to fight Voldemort alone. You won't have to walk onto _that_ battlefield knowing that no on is behind you to fight with you. We are all your army. And we will fight to the death, and there is nothing that can happen that will change any of that. No one could tie me down with a thousand ropes and expect me to just let you go it alone. No one. You need to know that, Harry."

Harry just stared hard at Remus, his eyes flicking about to examine the man's face, trying to understand what it was that he had just said. The tears were freefalling down his cheeks now. He was so angry, so tired. He was furious and depressed. Nothing could make him stop feeling this way. He put his hands over his face and screamed, then blindly began swinging at Remus, trying desperately to hit him, but dreading when he hurt him.

It was then he felt a strong hand catch his wrists and hold them tightly, but gently, keeping him from swinging anymore. Harry's red eyes opened and he saw Remus looking at him softly. Harry began to struggle, trying to get him hands loose.

"It's alright, Harry. Calm down!" Remus all but whispered. Harry pulled and jerked before collapsing against Remus, his knees buckling underneath him. Remus put his elbows under Harry's arms, holding him up as Harry wrapped his arms around Remus's neck, and cried. "Calm down, Harry. Just take a deep breath."

"I can't," Harry gasped. "It gets to a point where all you can do is scream and cry and let it out!" He cried, gasping desperately and clinging to Remus for dear life. The man watched Harry's head and sighed, thinking of every tear he, himself, had ever cried. Thinking of all the people he'd cried for, and why it was he had cried for them. All his friends were gone, it seemed. James, and Sirius especially. They left holes in his heart that were not repairable. He would never recover from them being gone. Never. And he could not convince himself to be happy anymore, even though sometimes he would laugh to cover up the pain he felt inside. The pain that would come through every full moon. It was hell.

Harry was weak inside. He seemed so strong. He stood for everyone, but he was still a kid. He couldn't do all of this and be expected to come out of it alive. Why did everyone look to him? Because he was The Boy Who Lived? Because he had this scar on his forehead? Harry shook his head holding Remus tighter and slipping down to the floor, his knees hitting the floorboards. Remus came with him, still keeping him at least somewhat upright. Harry took his hands away from Remus and wiped angrily at the tears. They didn't have any place there. None of this pain did. He should be standing up, not sinking downward. It was his pride. He had to stand.

_You've got your passion, you've got your pride  
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?  
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true  
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?  
_

Harry had sunk to the floor, but now, stood resolutely upward. Remus stood with him, watching him carefully. He knew that Harry's pride was forcing him to stand. Why did pride have rear its ugly head, at the ugliest of times?

"It's alright to cry, Harry. No one will know," Remus whispered. "Promise."

Harry shook his head again. No, no one would know. But Harry would. And that was the worst thing that could happen. If no one else knew, _he_ would and that would ruin his life. Neither God, nor the devil, heaven or hell could cure the pain that that would cause. Harry looked down at his feet, at the floor, and the way the cracks caught his socks in them. He could feel his eyes swelling a little from his tears. He looked back up at Remus.

"It's not alright, Remus. It's wrong. For me. That's mine. My pride is mine and I won't give up this battle. As much as I want that, I won't do it. And crying doesn't help anything…I think that you know that," Harry all but whispered. Remus smiled a little. The boy was pig headed. Just like his father. Remus looked down at the floor, then at his hands. He was worried for the boy. He was worried for everyone, not just the child. Everyone was going crazy. These were crazy times, and if Voldemort didn't kill them, the trapped feeling would. Harry then stepped backwards slightly, feeling hot in the cramped quarters between Remus and his desk. Remus then stepped back himself, and backed a little to the middle of the room. He took a deep breath, then blew it out his nose, letting the tensely charged air cool a little. Remus knew that Harry was still going to be angry. Nothing was going to make him happy. Nothing could. And Remus was alright with that.

Harry didn't want to be mad at Remus. He didn't want that at all. He didn't want to be mad at anyone. Not even Snape, though God knew how much he wanted to choke the man sometimes. But Severus Snape had his reasons, Harry was sure he did. Everyone had their own. Everyone had an obligation, or walked in a shadow, or had a rule they were forced to follow. It was the way of things, the way of life. The life Harry had always known. Harry had never known what a family was until he had gone to Hogwarts, had never known what it was like to have a father until he'd known Sirius, and now, Remus. Harry wouldn't trade that for anything. But sometimes, he just wondered if all the struggling, the fighting, the wondering, and hoping and praying…was it worth it? Really _worth_ all of this? Sometimes, Harry would've laid odds it wasn't. But then he looked at the pain, the sorrow. He looked at the hurting behind their eyes, _everyone's_ eyes, and he couldn't help but stand up again, even though he so badly wanted to lay down and give up.

Harry looked up and saw Remus watching his feet, blinking thoughtfully and seeming to not even remember that he had just been yelled at, swung at, and thoroughly beaten by words. Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked around the bleak room, wondering if he'd ever forget these battles after they were over. Assuming they ended, _and_ he survived them. He looked at Remus again and a pang of guilt made his stomach feel empty.

"I'm sorry…" he said weakly. "Though it doesn't really do any good now…I've already hurt you…maybe you should just go…"

Remus nodded. Harry was right, maybe he should just go. Maybe he should just walk away, let Harry figure it out for himself. Maybe he should.

"Maybe I will," he all but whispered. "Maybe I won't come back. Maybe…Good night, Harry…" Remus turned and headed for the door opening it and pausing as he stepped out. He looked back over his shoulder. "And you're forgiven." The door gently shut with a soft thud in the grim darkness that was over the room. Harry didn't think he was going to go downstairs for a few days. He was just going to stay there, and not look at anyone for awhile. It would do him good. Not to have to see anyone. Not to have to do work. Just relax and take things as they were thrown. Because, in the long run, Harry knew Remus was right. He was taking things too quickly. And he needed to just be alone. Have time for himself and his mind to just think things through and consider everything. It would cure him…or at east…help. A little.

Remus slowly descended the stairs, the creaky would groaning under his weight. He made his way to the first floor and turned into the common room. Everyone was sitting there, still and quiet, the fire crackling in the fireplace. Severus was sitting silently, the Potions book Harry had thrown clasped in his lap. Everyone heard Remus come in and looked anxiously over. Everyone except Severus, who knew what the answer was already.

"He's fine," Remus said, a slight smile marking his face. "He's just fine."

_Slow down, you crazy child  
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile  
it's all right, you can afford to lose a day or two  
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you?  
And you know that when the truth is told  
that you can get what you want or you can just get old  
You're gonna kick off before you even get half through  
Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you  
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you?_


End file.
